


Studio

by TheMomeRath



Category: How to Train Your Dragon (Movies), Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Dancer AU, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-12
Updated: 2014-08-12
Packaged: 2018-02-12 20:00:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2122788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMomeRath/pseuds/TheMomeRath
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hiccup watches a boy through the window of a dance studio every day on the way home from school and just wishes he could  move like him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Studio

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hope-for-snow](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=hope-for-snow).



> Written October 2013 for hope-for-snow's birthday, based on art she did. (Link in end notes)

Hiccup stood outside of the studio, watching through the window as the taller boy jumped and spun around the mirrored room. His agile frame was reflected in the reflective wall, a perfectly  _synchronised_  duo of princely figures performing plies and executing beautiful _cabrioles_  to the piano music which softly carried through the glass pane.

A heavy sigh fogged up the window in front of Hiccup’s mouth. Every time, he thought despondently. Whenever I walk by, he’s dancing. And it was true. Day after day, the short brunet passed the ballet studio, and each time he passed, he saw the tall, white-haired boy practicing. It was as though he never stopped.

The first few times Hiccup passed, he was unwilling to stop and watch for fear that the older boy would notice him and shoo him away, but after some time, he realised that the boy was not bothered by his presence. In reality, Hiccup was unsure he was even noticed. The tall boy seemed to be completely absorbed in his dancing- he was a part of the music, and he never stopped until the elegant sound of the piano did as well.

Hiccup grew used to watching the pale boy through the window, enraptured by his every move, a perfectly captive audience to an exquisite performer. His presence never seemed to unnerve his idol, for which he was grateful. In no way did he want to be caught surveying the older boy.

There was a slight pause in the music, and Hiccup checked to make sure the boy hadn’t noticed him during the few seconds of quiet. When the music restarted and the other boy began to dance a new routine, he glanced down at the prosthesis on his own left leg. The harsh metal glared in the stark winter sunlight. Light frosty patterns collected on the scratches along with dust and salt from the sidewalks.

Hiccup shut his watering eyes to block out the reminder. He would never dance like the boy in the studio. He would never be able to perform a perfect  _pas de basque_ , and he hated himself for it. That missing foot might not get in the way for most of what he did on a day-to-day basis, but he knew it meant he would never be as agile as the boy in the studio.

Brought back to the present from his reverie by the thought of the other boy, he shook off his thoughts and looked back into the studio. He was shocked to not see the boy, and in a state of panic, he stepped backwards, slipping on an icy patch, and fell onto his rear on the sidewalk. Thank goodness he wasn’t around to see that, he thought, wiping tears from his green eyes with the sleeve of his jacket.

When he took his arm away, he was shocked to see a hand reaching down to him. He followed the arm up to a set of shoulders he knew well from hours of observation. “Need any help?” asked the dancer.

Hiccup let out a tiny squeak and backed up a couple inches. “Um- Uh… I… Um…” he swallowed. “I thought you were practicing.”

The older boy laughed. “I was, but I saw you outside and didn’t want to leave you out in the cold like this.” He inclined his head toward his outstretched hand. “Do you want help getting up?”

“Um… Sure.” Hiccup took the boy’s hand and pulled himself to a standing position. “Thanks.” He pulled his backpack straps tighter across his chest. “I- um, I ought to be going…” He turned away from the white haired boy and began walking toward home

“Are you in a hurry today?” the tall boy asked. “You usually stay longer.”

Hiccup stopped and turned completely around. “You- you noticed me?” His face grew red and he embarrassedly lowered his head. “Oh, no. I’m sorry… I just… I love to see you dance. I wish I could do it.”

The tall boy smiled. “If you have time, I could try to teach you a few things.”

A sigh escaped Hiccup’s mouth and created a quickly disappearing cloud in front of his face. “I wish you could… But… I’m kind of broken.” He gestured sullenly to the prosthetic attached to his leg. “I’ve never been a good dancer anyway. I’m clumsy and I can’t…  I fall down so often.” He looked up to the tall boy’s face, his eyes filling with tears. “I don’t think I would be a good student.”

The other boy smiled. “I think you’re wrong.” He took Hiccup’s hand. “Here, come inside with me.”

Hiccup thought about protesting. He thought about pulling his hand away and making up an excuse to leave and lock himself up in his room. Instead, all he said was, “My name is Hiccup.”

The tall boy laughed. “My name is Jack. Here, quickly. It’s chilly out here!” He tugged Hiccup over to the door and through it into the warm studio. “Take off your boot and put it against the wall, then sit down here.” He gestured to a bench on the edge of the room. “I’ll be right back.”

Hiccup sat on the bench and tugged off his single winter boot. Overwhelmed by his emotions upon crossing the threshold of the place he had only before entered in his completely able-bodied dreams, he glanced around. The barre in front of the mirror was just across the room now.

Jack appeared from the door in the back of the room, a rag in hand. He crossed the studio and knelt in front of Hiccup. “May I?” he asked, gesturing to the prosthetic.

Hiccup nodded and Jack began to wipe away the ice and dust chunks that had built up on the metal foot. “I remember when I first noticed you coming by,” the white haired boy spoke as he scrubbed. “You would stand at that window for twenty minutes, sometimes an hour. I always wondered why you didn’t come in.” He adjusted Hiccup’s leg as he tried to scrub at an especially tarnished spot. “When I noticed your… Your leg, I realized that you must be afraid. I wanted so badly just to bring you in and get you out of the rain- Do you remember that day?- It was pouring rain and you didn’t stay for long. I wanted to invite you in, but by the time I had worked myself up to it, you were gone.” He stood up and tossed the rag into a bin next to the bench. “So when I saw you today, I just couldn’t leave you standing like that. And then I saw you fall over when I opened the door…” He helped Hiccup stand up from the bench. “Are you okay, by the way?”

More than okay, Hiccup thought, a smile on his face, then he blushed. “Um, yes. Yeah, I’m good. Thank you.”

“Good, I’m glad you’re not hurt,” Jack said happily. “I wouldn’t try to make you dance if you were injured.”

“Oh- oh, no, I can’t… What, you expect me to be able to- to dance, right now?” He shook his head frustratedly. “I told you I’m broken.”

“And I don’t think you are,” Jack soothed. “I just want to try a few things with you.” He held out both hands to Hiccup and whispered, “Just take my hands. You’ll be alright.”

Hiccup couldn’t bring himself to take the hands that Jack offered. He felt the older boy’s hand below his chin and tilted his head to look him in the eye. “You’ll be alright,” the boy repeated. “Just follow my direction.”

Hiccup placed his hands in Jack’s, and he followed.

**Author's Note:**

> http://hope-for-snow.tumblr.com/post/58097982408/comic-that-hope-cant-finish


End file.
